


Crash

by domo (aroceu)



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Angst, Friendship, M/M, Purple Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-22
Updated: 2010-09-22
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroceu/pseuds/domo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is trying to hold them up, Logan's almost gone, and while their band is breaking piece by piece, Kendall is trying to make himself and James perfect, even though James has told him he's broken already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash

_Crash._

James and Kendall look at each other, and give a knowing smile, as Carlos runs into the room, in a panic. He glanced between them, adjusting the helmet on his dark hair. Kendall raises his eyebrows; a trademark look.

“Have you guys seen Logan?” Carlos asks frantically. His eyes dark back and forth across the room.

James shakes his head. “Nah. Haven’t see him since last night; he said he was going to get something. Haven’t really seen him at all, really.” He frowns a little, then shrugs.

“Damn,” Carlos swears under his breath. He runs back out, leaving Kendall and James alone.

Once Carlos is out of their line of sight, James leans in next to Kendall and smiles. Kendall allows James to snuggle with him on the couch—though PDA isn’t his type of thing. But James’s warmth heats him up and Kendall just wants to kiss him, to have the familiar feeling of James’s face against his, his hot breath along his cheek, quick touches and strokes clinging onto Kendall’s body. Kendall feels it when James has the attachment of need to him, and Kendall wants to give it, wants to give him his all. So Kendall’s hand moves and he plays with the fabric of James’s shirt, fumbling with it in his hands, and James lets out a sound of contentment.

And Kendall wonders why James has ever felt broken, when both of them have always been pieced together, perfect.

./

Logan is the intelligence, but Kendall is the perfectionist, he wants everything to be perfect. And so Kendall is yelling at the others on how they are all on different keys, but he misses Logan telling them how they can be better.

Carlos is the energy; James, the charisma—they all have a part in this band. And so Carlos is usually eager to listen to what Logan has to say, and nods and does it, while James just smiles, a doting eye on Kendall. When Kendall meets those eyes, he loses his cool for a second, but then regains his composure.

Carlos sends James a look that says, _I know what’s going on_ , but then clever James shoots back a look that asks, _Do you really?_

“How are my dogs doing?” Gustavo asks, coming into the studio suddenly as they’re rehearsing.

“They’re _your_ dogs now?” Kelly raises an eyebrow, following him. She clutches the coffee cup in her hand irritatedly, and the cup looks like it’s about to snap.

“We—We’re fine,” Kendall replies, although the bead of sweat on his forehead gives him away. He wants Big Time Rush to be perfect. He wants them to be perfect. And he’s willing to sacrifice hours, hours of ice hockey, hours of pool time, to hours of practice and work until he can find no flaws. And he doesn’t care too much about success, or fame, or fortune—he wants to be _perfect_.

But Gustavo breaks this wall down when he narrows his eyes at Kendall. “Fine? You’re just fine? Kendall, tell me—” He pauses to pace back and forth “—how many years ahs it been since you and the dogs have been accepted here?”

“Um.” Kendall attempts to do the math in his head.

“Two,” Carlos offers.

“Two! And you’re the leader of this boy band for two years.” Gustavo glowers at Kendall. “And you’re fine. You’re just _fine_. You guys aren’t making any money, and you’re fine. Logan’s gone, and you’re fine. That’s it? That’s all? After two fucking years of being here, of working here, with _me_ , with everyone, you’re just _fine_?!”

Kendall’s shoulders are shaking but he says nothing. Instead, he nods and bows his head down. He can feel James’s hesitance behind him, a step ahead of Carlos.

“Gustavo.” Kelly rests a hand on the larger man’s shoulder to calm him down.

Gustavo says nothing as well, but instead just storms out of the studio in a huff. Once he’s left. James comes closer to Kendall and hugs him gently, across his torso. Kelly, who’s lingered back, and Carlos do the same, embracing him, but Kendall only feels James.

./

Kendall likes being with James, because he feels it’s all under control, he has enough control over everything that matters. With every kiss and touch and nip of skin and giggle they share—Kendall loses sight of everything else in the world, everything but James.

At night, James finds Kendall lying there in his bed, and he joins him, and cuddles into him. Kendall nods his head back, welcoming James’s presence; he briefly flashes back to earlier that day. James must’ve noticed his body tensing because he asks him in a whisper, so close to his ear, “Are you okay?” And the brief nod of Kendall’s head is a response.

But then Kendall turns around and sits up and kisses him, and it is a sweet kiss. James kisses back, questioningly but lovingly, and Kendall is so turned on by this, by all of this, by _James_ that he takes both sides of James face and kisses him again, harder. There is now a confused tone in the way that James responds, but he doesn’t pull away as Kendall’s ands wander southwards.

They find the fringe of James’s shirt, and Kendall sneaks his way in, feeling the comfort of James’s skin. Although James is muscular and strong, he seems to retract around Kendall—because he wants to listen to Kendall, he wants to be perfect, like Kendall. Now, as he teases along James’s stomach and enjoys the mewls that are being fed into his mouth, Kendall remembers the first time James told him he was broken. And Kendall had wondered how could someone so perfect like James say that they’re broken, but Kendall perfects him, Kendall makes him perfect.

And so Kendall moves his mouth and cups it around James’s ear. James whimpers and shivers in his hold, back arching forward so that some of his weight rests on Kendall’s arm. Kendall slicks his warm tongue on James’s skin again, trailing down to the crook of James’s neck. Every sound that James lets out turns him on even more, as Kendall smiles and lifts up the back of James’s shirt again. He slips it off easily, like flowing water under a bridge, and James seems startled the next second he realizes that Kendall’s mouth is moving more down his torso. He bites on the skin near James’s jaw line, and collarbone, and then licks the sweet sweat that is trickling down James’s face, down his body. He plays with James’s nipples, bringing one into his mouth—then suddenly, he nearly loses his balance when his hands, at his sides, almost slip on the sheets beneath them—but James doesn’t seem like he’s noticed at all, when he moans.

Kendall can feel himself getting turned on by the second, and when he swirls his tongue around the other nipple and James’s fingers find Kendall’s arms because he nothing else to hold onto, and he grips onto his wrists, and his nails dig into his skin so hard that Kendall almost falls over again. James is surprised at Kendall’s head resting on his chest, but he laughs and Kendall loves it, and he laughs, and he doesn’t know if he’d rather have James moaning in pleasure, or laughing.

He strips himself down to his boxers—he knows that despite the skinship James likes to show, James is rather shy. Then, after kissing the flat of James’s stomach and let himself tease farther downward, he slips James’s pants off, until they are around his ankles, and then on the floor. Then, with impatience, he takes James’s boxers off, breathing heavily when he comes back up.

“K-Kendall…” James gasps, at the feeling of Kendall so close to around him. “A—euah—”

Kendall does not reply, but bringing the head of James’s erection in his mouth is a reply enough, and in surprise, James lets out a small sound. His fingers curl and tighten on the bed sheet beneath them, as he throws his head back and breathes heavily, sweat beading down his face. When Kendall presses his tongue against the slit, he jolts and lets out a more incoherent cry, a cry that sends Kendall to encourage him faster. Kendall brings him full into his mouth—slowly, so that James has enough time to react. James’s hands move once more—this time, they find Kendall’s hair, and Kendall likes this more because he likes feeling James’s perfect fingers on his own, _on_ him.

His tongue strokes along the sides and works their way on him; James pushes him, pushes him farther, panting faster and faster the more Kendall sucks him off. When he finally releases, Kendall widens his mouth more and James comes into him and Kendall takes it all, lapping it off. Excess falls to the side of his mouth, hot liquid running down his throat; Kendall loves the taste of James, of James inside him. And when James finishes his release, he isn’t hesitant to feel behind for James’s hole, and when he does, he presses his index finger inside.

James’s response is almost automatic. He cries out, “ _Kendall!_ ” in a pained voice, which makes Kendall hesitate—was he hurting him? But then James manages to whimper out, barely audible, “M-More, Kendall, more,” so Kendall curls his finger inside of him. James cries out again, but this time Kendall learns to enjoy it; it is a cry of pleasure.

Kendall takes himself out and chuckles at James’s whine. He flips James over gently onto his stomach, so now he is on his back. Kendall brings his head down, back to James’s hole, and slips his tongue inside around its rim. James winces and another unintelligible sound comes out of his mouth, when Kendall takes his tongue out and brings a finger back in—and then two—he tenses until the pain hits him and he yelps out; a third finger and he does once again. James’s hole is tight as Kendall presses against his digits, and Kendall moves his fingers around and bends them, attempting to widen him. He slips a fourth finger in, and by the sound of James’s scream and Kendall’ knows he cannot hold any more.

Kendall fumbles a little with his beside dresser until he finds his lubricant—he swears he hears James’s chuckling and he presses against James digits even more, which doesn’t shut him up, but rather makes James yelp and shove his face into the mattress. Kendall manages to wiggle his boxers off, assisting one-handed, and then lubricates himself quickly with the liquid.

After pulling his fingers out, Kendall penetrates into him—James feels like he’s being torn open as he fists his blanket and bites the pillow in an attempt to prevent himself from being any more louder than he is. Kendall stays in his position for a moment, taking in this pleasure, remembering the moments he’s been inside James—but then James cries at the tension, on how much he wants Kendall to move, Kendall adjusts himself and slides in a bit further, then shifts and slams  into him, a little bit harder. Kendall can see that James’s hands look like they’re going to rip the bed sheet apart from beneath them but he closes al sense of sight at the feeling of friction in James and is rubbing on him harder and harder against James’s sweet spot that James is moaning to—and then Kendall can’t hold it anymore, he comes into him. At the feeling of Kendall filling him, James moans in turn, sounds muffled by the pillow, but Kendall knows, he knows James. And he continues releasing as he’s fucking James and nothing has ever felt so good, felt so perfect.

When he’s done, when they’re both breathing and panting and gasping for air, Kendall goes up until he is so much closer to James’s face. And he kisses James on the lips, taste of James still lingering in his mouth, and then James curls into his arms, and they fall away, fall asleep in their own world.

./

Kendall doesn’t like the day because that’s when people can see his imperfections. It’s also when he has the time to work on them, to perfect them—but his flaws always outshine the little things he does right.

When he and James come out, Carlos has the look on, again. _I know what do you did last night._ And Kendall gives him the expression this time, _Do you really?_

“Where’s Logan?” James glimpses around like they’ve always been, and, as always, there is no answer.

“I don’t know.” Carlos looks worried. “He keeps disappearing.”

At these words, Kendall feels troubled—but he assures himself it is nothing.

./

The fact that Big Time Rush needs more money, that they haven’t sold an album for months now gets around the Palm Woods. Jo shares her sympathies with Kendall, they get words of advice and sadness with Guitar Dude, Camille wishes the rest of them good luck, Tyler does all he can to help, Mercedes offers her resources, Kendall’s mother shares them a smile and asks them if they want to go out for ice cream, Katie shares her expenses—Kendall doesn’t hate it, but he hates the fact that they know.

He wonders why he’s still here anyways, why he’s here at all. Did he have any money? How were they managing? And why hadn’t Bitters kicked them out yet? Without practice, his dream was falling down and sometimes he just wants to give up on trying to be perfect.

Logan’s been with them since noon. Kendall wants to ask him where he’s been, what he’s been doing, why he’s gone every morning. He wants to ask him why does he leave when the rest of the band is suffering in the feeling that they’re over, that they might as well be over, and that hours of practice are doing nothing if they’re getting nowhere. He wants to ask why Logan always looks so damn happy, when clearly the rest of them are far from happy. But he does not.

Kendall feels sorry for Carlos, because Carlos is like the keystone, holding them up, giving them the energy they do not have. And Carlos hast o watch this happen, watch them fall, watch as Logan leaves them, and Kendall and James attempt to get themselves lost in a world of euphoria on their own.

Kendall’s hands find James’s next to him, and he can feel a little bit of that euphoria.

./

Carlos looks like he wants to say something about James and Kendall on the couch, but says nothing. It is a week later; Gustavo has given up on them. He’s stopped calling them to rehearsals, stopped seeing them in general—they haven’t caught sight of the man since he’s yelled at Kendall. And they—Big Time Rush—they are trying to pretend that he’s the least of their worries.

Instead, Carlos asks the repeating question, “Where’s Logan?” When James and Kendall give the usual answer, Carlos goes on his way.

Kendall fingers with James’s hair centimeters from his face. “How are you so perfect,” he murmurs in awe.

James chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m not perfect,” he responds. “You are.”

Kendall plays with James’s bandana. “I’m farther from it. You’re just so good at everything, singing, dancing, smiling, looking good. Managing this. All this.” He doesn’t want to see the three words ringing in his ears ( _Big Time Rush_ ) but James understands.

James shakes his head. “I’m not. You think I want this? I can barely keep up with everything. I can only keep up with you.”

“Don’t. Please.” Kendall sends James a pained look all of a sudden. “I feel like we’re just going in a circle. Where the hell has Logan been? Has he said anything to you?”

“He said something about getting us more money. But I doubt that even with his genius brain, that he can do anything.” James sighs.

“And we owe enough as it is,” Kendall adds. “All we have is the money we brought, and that’s only around a few hundred dollars.”

“I just hope Logan isn’t doing anything stupid.” A troubled look comes across James’s face, a look that reminds Kendall of fallen birds and Kendall averts his gaze.

“Don’t worry,” he says to James. “We’ll be fine.” But he knows that he is not perfect, and he is not sure of this,

./

Carlos crashes second. He crashes a week later.

He is with James and Kendall and they are in the Palm Woods pool again. No one is yelling at them for being there—legalistically, due to the lack of payment of fees, their contract doesn’t allow them certain privileges on the building—but they don’t know this and the others, they all love them, they love Big Time Rush.

Gustavo still has not made a move.

Kendall is patient in the silence; James cherishes it. But Carlos is not a person of silence, he is one of fuel. And so he starts it up, he brings it into question (though knowledge has sparked the fire).

Carlos cares little about much, but to him, his friends are not much. They are the little things he cares much for.

“Do you guys care?” he asks, and it is a very Carlos-thing for him to do.

Surprised, James and Kendall turn their heads to him and frown slightly.

“You guys are the biggest assholes I’ve ever met.” Carlos’s statement surprises them. “You guys act—You guys act like there’s nothing to care about. Like nothing’s going on. Because, obviously, as long as you have each other, everything is _fucking fine_.”

The last two words are not very much like Carlos at all. Kendall feels scared.

“Is this all this is to you? A joke?” Carlos’s black eyes pierce into theirs.

James’s brown gaze is swimming. “I-It’s not a joke, w-we really do care—”

“Are you kidding me?” Carlos’s voice is high; he’s got the attention of at least half the people at the pool already. “Do you really care about us at all? Do you really give a damn about Big Time Rush?” The swearing comes out of Carlos’s mouth more naturally now. “You and Kendall are always off in your happy fag land, and you just ignore every fucking thing that’s going on—you’re ignoring that we’re in debt, that Logan is almost _gone_ , that we’re falling apart, that our friendship is falling apart, that Gustavo has been disappointed in us to the extent that he’s not even talking to us.” He turns to Kendall and gives him a sneer, and Kendall has to look away. “Gustavo was right, Kendall. What are you doing? You call yourself a leader? You’re supposed to be our fucking _leader_ , and instead you’re a coward, you’re running away and staying in some stupid fantasy world with James. You think that’s going to help us? That it’s going to help _any_ of us?”

It is deathly silent. Carlos walks away, because he has crashed and the crash is graceful and he has landed, alone. And Kendall can only half feel it when James cries into his arms, because he feels numb.

./

Kendall remembers when he and James make love, and he tries to go back, back to the feeling of being with James and being sensitive to every touch. And he knows he is a coward, that he is trying to get away—but he can’t, he just can’t.

But being with James is a rush, and sooner or later, the rush will stop. And then Kendall will have nothing left. He doesn’t want to think about it, but it always tugs in the back of his mind.

Kendall rolls over in the bed and kisses James on the forehead. James’s eyes open in slits and he smiles a little when he sees him.

“Morning,” Kendall greets.

“Morning.” James yawns, stretching his arms across the bed. Then he sighs and lets himself into Kendall’s arms.

He sends Kendall a look, a look he gives him every morning, a look that says, _Can I say I love you yet?_ And Kendall always gives him a look that replies _No_ , which James is okay with. James thinks Kendall says this because he thinks thy are not ready yet, not ready for love—but Kendall says that they cannot love because they do not love. They are too good for love. They do not need love.

But today, there is something in Kendall’s eyes—maybe it is the first crack, a sign of weakness—that makes James stop and look at him. Their brown eyes are the same—but Kendall’s are dark and laden with pretense, while James’s are lighter in color and purity. And they can finally see into Kendall—and James can see that there is something so wrong.

“James?” Kendall says suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts.

James shakes his head and smiles, acknowledging Kendall once again. But there is something weary in the way he walks, in the way he sees.

./

Logan is here this morning.

“I don’t—it’s nothing—” Logan is telling Carlos when James and Kendall come in. Logan is trying to stray away from Carlos, hide his face, hide everything.

Kendall stares at Logan. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“I—nowhere, he’s been nowhere,” Carlos is saying, trying to get Logan back to him, back with him, back into his arms.

Kendall keeps looking at Logan. Logan looks like a ghost, blurred. “Where the fuck have you been?” he repeats.

“I don’t—regret it, I don’t, I don’t!” Logan pulls out of Carlos’s grasp and hugs himself, as if trying to find some false refuge.

“What have you been doing?” This time, the words are James’s and they are quiet, patient.

Logan lets out a maniacal laugh. “They say money can’t buy you happiness! They say there are other ways of getting power!” The grin on his face is plastered on, eerie, like a mask. “Well, they-they’re wrong, they’re all wrong!”

James and Kendall watch. They watch Logan, afraid.

“I’ve been—I’ve been trying to get money for all of us, you see? Be-Because. That’s why we’re splitting apart. Because of the _money_.” He spits out the word. There is a cry in his throat after this, and his voice finally dies. “But I lost.”

“You—” Kendall finds it hard to speak. “You’ve been gambling?”

“I’ve been gambling?” Logan chuckles, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “I’ve been gambling? Of course! What do you think, _I’m the fucking leader_ Kendall? I’ve been gambling! While you’re off with James, trying to make yourself perfect, thinking that only with love you can make Big Time Rush ‘perfect’, _us_ perfect, I’m actually doing something! I go out every night and come back every afternoon, trying to get us money! How can you call yourself when you’ve been doing nothing but _James_!”

Logan is crying right now, screaming, tears are pouring down his face as he shoots his finger at Kendall. James looks scared, frightened, while Carlos is still attempting to recover Logan.

“We’re not in love,” is Kendall’s quiet response as he gazes at Logan. Then he turns to James.

But James is gone.

./

“I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry. I’m not. I’m not.”

Logan continues to pull away from Carlos.

./

Kendall finds James alone, in a way that he wants to be alone. And Kendall finds this odd, because James never wants to be alone.

“James?” he calls quietly.

James turns around. His gaze is half-welcoming.

“James.” Kendall comes to James and kisses him on the cheek.

James pushes Kendall away fro the first time.

“James,” Kendall says for a third time.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” is all James says.

Kendal blinks and stares at James. “What?”

“Maybe it’s best. Maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

./

Kendall searches and searches, he searches his mind and history and heart. He wonders why, he wants to know why James doesn’t want this anymore, he doesn’t want them anymore, he doesn’t want _him_ anymore. Why? Why? They were perfect, together and only together—Kendall couldn’t have found a flaw in what they were, what they used to be. So why—why does James want him no longer?

He feels like he’s walking through a dream, he’s numb. It has not hit him yet.

./

He sleeps alone for the first time—it feels so odd, but he can endure it. There’s an absence of warm next to him, and he’s cold, so, so cold.

And he’s breaking piece by piece.

./

They’ve lost. Big Time Rush has lost. Kendall loses track of time—suddenly, everything has seemed to fall apart. Their contract is ripped on a Thursday, and on Friday they are no longer allowed in Palm Woods, although they were welcome to stay here.

./

James refuses to talk to Kendall. And Kendall doesn’t even try. It still hasn’t hit him yet; he hasn’t looked into James’s dark eyes in what feels like ages now, he hasn’t kissed him, hasn’t held him. And he tells himself he doesn’t need to, he doesn’t need James, he doesn’t need anything at all.

There is a crack in his heart, a millimeter long and a millimeter wide.

Kendall wonders if it’s a flaw.

./

Kendall is a bumblebee, James is a flower. Kendall layers himself in colors of different shades until he is the perfect shade of black, so no one can see him and no one can see into him. And the light shades that they think are visible are only fake, they are not what they think they are.

And the flower, the flower blooms and breaks and is beautiful, while the bee is ugly, so ugly. But the flower welcomes to bee in all its ugliness and the bee takes what it can get from the flower—but it is not everything, and the bee flies off before it realizes what it’s lost, because it is a selfish bee, a greedy bastard who thinks nothing of himself and he doesn’t know what he’s leaving behind when he leaves the flower and fuck he’s just so stupid and so fucked up and Kendall has no idea what the fuck is going on.

./

Kendall hates analogies.

./

“I don’t regret it, I’m not sorry, I’m not sorry for anything!” Logan is shouting, but he is weakening, and Carlos is strong enough to hold him, to dry his tears, to give him all he wants.

“I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry.”

Loan shakes in Carlos’s arms, crying, sobbing, breaking.

“Shh,” Carlos strokes him, his hair, his head, Logan. “Shh. It’s okay. We forgive you.”

Kendall watches.

“I swear I’m not sorry, I don’t have any regrets, I-I’m not sorry at all.”

“Shh.” Carlos leans to kisses the tears off of Logan’s face. “We forgive you.”

./

Kendall feels like he’s walking in a living nightmare, seeing everything break away, seeing everything shatter into smithereens. And he’s feeling, doing nothing but watching—and he wants to bring it all back, to put it back together, because it is far from perfect, it is far from what he wants—but he can’t, he won’t, he can’t feel a thing, because he’s numb.

He watches as Bitters tells them that they cannot stay, but makes no movement to kick them out. He watches as his mother gives him a sad look, telling them they should but tells them they need to stay. He watches as Katie stops doing it, stops doing everything that she does and instead is quiet, ambiguous. He watches as their friends here stop talking to them, but their gazes remain forever on them. He watches as Gustavo walks around, refusing to talk to them, to look at them, and Kelly follows him around and does as Gustavo those, but she looks at them and he can see pain in her eyes.

Kendall watches as Logan cries, as Logan denies that he is sorry, that he regrets nothing, even though he can clearly see that Logan hates it—Logan thinks he is smart enough to gamble and win, but he’s lost, he’s failed himself, and he hates it. He sees Carlos who has given up, who says he’s given up, but he’s strong enough to hold Logan together and see into him and love him, and he _loves_ him.

And Kendall sees James. He sees James broken, and he finally sees that James is broken. James walks around without any feeling in his eyes—he looks on and he is here, but Kendall feels like he is here no longer. And he wonders why James is broken. He wonders if he’s the one who broke him.

./

Kendall wonders if he’s ever given James anything.

./

Kendall’s never understood love. Kendall’s always trying to make everything perfect that he doesn’t have enough time for love, because he knows love is perfect, but it is not his. Love can never be his. Love is for perfect people, for those who don’t need to be perfect because they are already perfect. But Kendall believes that working makes perfection, but perfection does not make love.

He spends all his time making things the way he wants them to be—he wants to make him and James like nothing else in the world, he wants to be exactly what he wants to be, he can’t deal with flaws, he can’t deal with stains, he has to be clean, flawless, perfect, everything—he wants to be invincible, strong, without a single crack—and he does not need love. He does not need it.

He is barely aware that his love is broken.

./

He continues fixing things, attempting to fix things. But he goes nowhere.

./

Eyes shoot open. He wakes up in the dark, but the dark is not much different from his nightmare—he is dark, and he’s going around in circles.

He tries to rid of his cold sweat, tries to forget about his nightmare, to fall back asleep. He rolls over on his bed again, pulling his sheets with him and searching for a warmth.

There is no warmth.

And Kendall finds that he is still in his nightmare.

./

“We have to go. We have to go, Kendall. We can’t stay here forever,” his mother says to him. She’s given up too. They’ve all given up.

Kendall feels cold, so cold, when he shakes his head and says to his mother, “No, not yet.” The words feel so empty. He wants nothing more but for arms to come around him again, to pull him close, to make him warm.

./

And Kendall breaks, he, he breaks, and the crack grows right down the middle until he splits, and all of a sudden Kendall understands pain. He understand what it is like to not be perfect, to never be perfect. Because that is what he is. He will never be perfect.

And the realization, the knowing, the knowing that he has failed, he has failed forever—it hits him in the chest and he finds it hard to breathe, it hits him in the heart and he finds it hard to feel. Because how can he feel, if he is numb, if he is dismantled? How can he feel, if he is not perfect?

./

Tears fall down his face—Kendall finds himself crying at nights. He cries because he misses this warmth with him, he misses this, he misses—he misses whatever he’s had before. What was it? He cannot remember, what he’s had before, what he’s been before, but it’s gone, gone—he-he doesn’t have anyone anymore, he doesn’t have J-James—

James. Fuck. Kendall doesn’t have James. He doesn’t have James anymore. Kendall’s fucking hurt. Kendall’s crashed.

./

Kendall’s tired, so fucking tired of not being perfect, of trying to be perfect, of working for something he thinks he will achieve when he knows in the back of his mind that he won’t get it. He hates it, he hates that he’s not going to get what he wants and he knows, yet he tries because he’s stupid and naïve and foolish and just so fucked up and he won’t stop it because he’s stuck in a fake world where everything is perfect, but no one is, he is not, he never will be.

And he doesn’t know when he’s perfect, he doesn’t know what perfect is anymore. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been perfect. All he knows is that he’s had James—he doesn’t have him anymore, and without James, he’s shattered.

./

He feels like he’s getting colder every night, and wonders why he hasn’t frozen away yet.

./

And when Kendall looks at James and James looks back, for the first time, Kendall can see into those void eyes, his own hollow eyes. And he realizes that he is broken, he has broken as well, he has always been broken, and James needs Kendall. James needs Kendall.

He needs his love.

And Kendall, Kendall’s never given his love, he never knew he’s had it, he has always loved James, but he has never given it to James, he refuses. And James, James has let him go. Because he does not want Kendall to be stuck in something he does not need. But Kendall needs love. He needs it. He is fucking selfish, and he needs it.

He needs love, he does not need to be perfect, but he needs it, he needs James, he needs this, he’s broken without it. He needs love to repair himself, to repair them, to repair James. He needs love to repair them. To repair Big Time Rush.

But Kendall already feels like he’s broken, his heart has been broken beyond mending, he’s been torn out and he’s just left, fragments abandoned on the floor.

./

“I’m sorry.”

Logan says this to Kendall when he finds Kendall alone, when Kendall is nothing but a baby because he just wants and wants and wants, he’s stopped wanting perfection and now he just wants love, he wants James, he wants friends, he wants Big Time Rush—he wants and wants and wants but no one will give it to him, God will not give, James will give not gave, anyone, no one would give.

Logan looks at Kendall and he is with Carlos because he’s learned how to be strong, they’ve both learned how to love (will Kendall ever get sick of this fucking word?) and Carlos gives him the strength he needs, because knowledge will get you nowhere without strength.

“I’m sorry.”

They’ve learned to fix themselves.

./

He feels so useless, so helpless—what good can he do or them anymore? What has he ever done? All he’s wanted—perfection, no tinges, uniform—is something he’ll never get, he’ll keep on reaching and reaching for it but he will get nowhere and fuck why is he still thinking about it, he hates what he is, what  he’s been. All he’s lost—his friends, his career, his dream, his family, James—and love. But he’s never had it, James had given it to him and he’s never needed it and he’s thrown it away because that’s not what he wants, he’s always wanted—always wanted one thing—always wanted—

Kendall is useless in this world, useless, he has nothing, nothing he needs, nothing he wants, and his heart inside him is rotting and James, James doesn’t want him, doesn’t need him. James can have anyone else. But Kendall, Kendall needs James and only James and he doesn’t deserve James and James should find someone better, less selfish, less corrupt, less stained—more pure, someone who can match up to his perfection, his love. To deserve his love. To be enough.

./

And words are not enough, words go into one ear and out the other.

./

Kendall feels like he’s dying.

./

In a night it looks like James is here, he is with Kendall—but this, Kendall cannot fathom. He sees as James comes to him and whispers, “Kendall,” and looks helpless, so, so helpless, so cracked and dirtied and Kendall does not want to see him this way. And he wonders if this is truly James, because James is not like this, so Kendall goes by instinct, he takes James and James takes him and then Kendall realizes, I’m not perfect, I can’t fix this, James is too good, too, too good and why does he want me? But James comes to Kendall and he’s crying, and Kendall is crying because he’s hurting inside and _is this pain I feel?_ , and he crying tears of, tears of worthlessness, tears of shame, tears of fear. And the tears that James sheds are tears of pure water and clarity, and washes it, washes all of Kendall’s imperfections away.

./

“I—” Kendall chokes. “I love you, a-and I, I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve your love, you’re perfect and I don’t deserve any of it—”

“I know,” James whispers into his hair, into his heart. “I know. I know.”

“I love you, James. I love you and it’s love, and I love Carlos and Logan and you, James, I love you, I love you, _I love you_ —”

James’s words come into the shadows like never-ending flickers of blinding lights.

“I know. I know. I know.”

./

Gustavo still does not speak to them, and Big Time Rush, Big Time Rush is still no more, but Kendall wants it, and he knows the others want it, he knows James wants it. James kisses Kendall and Kendall kisses James and it is still nothing, it is still very little, what they have, but James is willing to wait.

And James is perfect, he’s always been perfect—he’s broken, but he’s perfect, he’s broken because he loves Kendall, he’s broken because without Kendall, he’s unable to function, and he’s broken because he needs Kendall, but he’s perfect, perfectly broken.

“What do you want?” Kendall asks him. “What do you want more than anything world?” If you could be granted one wish right now, what would you wish for?

“I want us.” James looks at Kendall with chaste eyes. “I want us. I want Big Time Rush.”

./

Kendall looks at Carlos and Logan and sees that they’ve learned to love. He looks at James and sees he’s taught how to love. And he looks at himself and sees himself. He sees himself, and he’s allowed himself to love.

Gustavo still does not talk to them—but that is okay with him. They, the four of them, they’re still in the process of finding themselves, of finding each other. They’re still bound by a single thread, but the thread is strong enough, crafted enough, still enough, good enough for now. Everything is enough, for now.

And Kendall knows he can’t make them perfect. He will never be able to make his world perfect. But he can put them back together, he can fix them, he can fix himself and James. Kendall is picking up the pieces.


End file.
